Wii-iiiiiiiiiiiiii

When the Nintendo Wii launched last November I really, really wanted to get one but knew I was completely unwilling to pay its initial launch cost. Honestly, $279 is a little steep for my pocketbook.

As weeks and then months passed, my hope of ever owning a Wii steadily diminished as empty shelves greeted Nintendo loyalists across North America. The shortage of product was astonishing. Five months after launch, stores were still only receiving a few units per week, and customers were still lining up outside Toys 'R' Us, at 5am every Saturday, to get there hands on a system.

It appears that my parent's sudden infatuation with the system, coupled with the exhuberence of the new Vegreville Wal-Mart employees, has combined forces to get me a Wii.

My parents put their name on a waiting list and were told it could take weeks, if not longer before they would be called. Just a day or two later they received their call to "pick up their Wii" and not wanting to make multiple trips to the edge of town, it appears that they picked up 3 Wii's. Yes, multiples.

They'll keep one for the Daycare (damn lucky kids, if you ask me!), Debbie is taking one for her kids, and the final one is reserved just for me. It was a shock to the system when they called me, to be sure, and I can't wait to set the little entertainment system up!

Currently: Wishing I had made better picks for my playoff pool.

She Said YES

To those of you that we haven't seen or talked to in person, we apologize if this is your first notification, but Nicole and I are now happily engaged!

The evening was March 21, 2007, and with a huge hand from Jeremy and Alex (who did all the decorating while we were out) it was a complete success. It was an absolute surprise for Nicole, the house didn't burn down, and Maizey didn't eat the engagement ring.

There's been no wedding date picked, so you'll probably be met with blank stares and varrying degrees of "ums" and "uhs" if you raise the question with either of us.


Currently: Excited, nervous, humbled, overjoyed, grateful, loved...

Does Not Play Well With Others

Though I have absolutely no problem with the existence of other people, specifically my University peers, I'm not particularily keen on having to co-operate with them. No, wait, that's not entirely true.

I just don't want my interactions with them to significantly impact my GPA, as is typically the case with damnable groupwork!

My lifestyle is not compatable with the demands of working in a group. No, I can't meet you after class, I've got to work/sleep/do nothing. I'd love to show you what I've completed already but I only do assignments the night before they're due. This applies to reading a paragraph for class or choosing a topic/starting/completing a term research paper. And no, under no circumstances will I submit an assignment in before the due date...please see the previous point.

The proof, as they say, is in the puddin':

1. Test Item Construction, group, 77% (88/115)
2. Individualized Program Plan, group, 75% (33/44)
3. Classroom Management Plan, only me, 98% (39/40)
4. Science Lesson Planning, only me, 96% (48/50)

In no way am I implying that I'm intellectually superior to the Education students around me. I'm not. Read one of my essays and your B.S. detector might burn out...but in assessment situtations, especially involving writing, I just seem to know how to massage those high marks out of the professor.

My fellow group members, I've been lead to believe, also typically score marks vastly superior to the mid-70's. So what exactly is going on here? The surest route to mediocrity begins with decisions by committee, that's what.

Currently: Pleasantly surprised that today was my last day of class...

Behind the Cage

Whenever I reminisce about playing goal in hockey, I think back to the crazy Frenchman that tended the net in Slapshot. He was, by all accounts, completely out of his mind, both on and off the ice. To a certain degree, you have to be a bit "imbalanced" to want to play a position that:

1. The entire opposing team is out to humiliate.
2. Hard objects are hurled towards you at frightening speeds.
3. An "off" game means that you single-handedly doom your team to failure.

Now, we do need a little perspective here - we're playing men's rec league ball hockey, but even this is not without it's challenges. All the laid back street hockey in the world doesn't prepare you much for performing in front of complete strangers, in a competitive situation, with a finite time limit. We'd play street hockey to 10 goals, which could take 15 minutes to 2 hours, depending on the pace. In this league you've got 50 minutes to work your magic, or alternately, 50 grueling minutes to endure a relentless ass-kicking. Game to game you just never know if you'll be facing a group of weekend warriors or an entire off-season Junior A Provincial Champion squad.

For me, personally, I've been happy with my progression in the few games that I've played goal. In my first game I was nervous, scrambling, and so hot-n-tired that I was on the verge of collapsing before the end of the first period. Since that game I find myself a bit less nervous, but way more confident. My positioning and speed is still a major work in progress, but at least I'm not fighting my own body for endurance.

Also, like most goalies, I'm completely obsessed with my stats. These, I'm happy to report, have absolutely showed signs of progress:

Game 1: Loss, 26 GA, 65 Shots, 39 Saves = 0.600 SV%
Game 2: Win, 10 GA, 42 Shots, 32 Saves = 0.762 SV%
Game 3: Loss, 8 GA, 49 Shots, 41 Saves = 0.837 SV%

Sure, I'd love nothing more than to have a 3 - 0 record, but for the moment I'll be content with statistical progress!

Currently: Starting to hydrate for the game on Saturday. Drink water boys, plenty of water!

Balanced Breakfast

Breakfast is considered the most important meal of the day. Apparently Maizey is a firm believer in this mantra.

I'd made 2 "Egg McMuffins" for my early morning commute to student teaching - the first one was delicious though the second one tasted God-awful. The reason for this discrepancy currently eludes me.

The vile disappointment sat in my car all day and froze solid. Upon returning home, Maizey was quick to pounce upon the frozen morsel. Very quick and very sneaky she was. Very sneaky indeed.

She was, however, nice enough to pose for a few pictures before dropping the inedible McTurd and slowly, ashamedly, marching straight into her kennel for some quiet reflection.

Currently: Battling a wicked cold I picked up while student teaching.

Update pwned...

Okay, so this isn't exactly a new post to get all excited about, but it is representative of potential future posting. I've been so busy lately, with so many things to do, that logically, I've done very little of anything at all. My finely crafted procrastination skills are battling head-to-head with the academic demands of my semester...and well, I suppose, the professional demands of becoming a certified educator.

I've fiddled around with the design a bit, brought on by my switch to the "new" Blogger standard. I'm quite pleased with it. I find the layout to be rather pleasing on the senses.

During coffee this morning I was reflecting (as one typically does while drinking coffee in the morning) on how many exams I've probably written in my university career...the potential tally was quite shocking. A conservative estimate would place it at over 130, with at least 45 of those being final exams. Consequently, that would also indicate I've dedicated approximately 130 nights to studying/opening my text books.

Over the course of 6 years.

Currently: Skimming over 200 pages of "supplementary readings" for my Classroom Management midterm.

Time Travel

After being 26 years old for a month now, I've realized Jeremy's lament that he "wouldn't have suggested turning 26" was painfully accurate.

This morning I completely bit it in the shower. Personally, I hadn't scheduled for that type of bathing incident until I was firmly in my 70's, but apparently incompetence knows no bounds.

One minute I was lathering myself up with some body gel and the next moment I was a crumpled heap in the bottom of the bathtub - one shampoo bottle completely destroyed, a numb left forearm, and pain radiating from all my extremities. The humiliation of physical injury is magnified by at least a factor of 5 when you're stark naked and clutching a frothy pink loofah for dear life.

Currently: Screwing around with mathematical functions in Excel.

To The Woodshed...

Though I might come off sounding a bit, well, retarded, I just can't seem to feel bad about losing 18 - 2 at ball hockey. It was a travesty of unimaginable proportions, to be sure, but I save my competitive rage for loses by fewer than 16 goals. Play hard and lose a game by 1, maybe 2 goals - that's hard on a guy's ego.

It's not that I'm not competitive or immune to the sting of humiliation when I lose, but what happened out there on the court went beyond one team playing better. It was evident after the first 3 minutes that our opponents could've done quite well in a higher division...perhaps, oh I don't know, the highest. To a man they were taller, faster, and stronger. I swear, when I took face-offs against their #2, I was practically eye-level with his navel!

Perhaps I walked away feeling good about the game because I was able to attain some personal goals. In my first game I think I was on the floor for half of the opposing team's goals. In this whuppin' my line was only victimized for one. I'm pretty sure I didn't win a face-off in my first game. Though we were getting beaten like rented mules, I managed to win about half of my face-offs. Also, I didn't trip over my own stick, score on my own net, or suffer any disfiguring injuries.

From where I'm standing, that embarrassment to the good game of hockey was an unmitigated success!

Finally, and to be completely honest, I go out there and run around like an idiot, or flop around in the crease because I'm having fun doing it. It doesn't matter if it's just the boys playing street hockey or us man-boys out there sporting Decepticon logos. I'm trying, and learning, and if what I do contributes to a victory that's just an added bonus. I appreciate the game because it's an opportunity to get together. To me, and I realize I'm bordering on the highest degree of corny-ness here, that hour of highs and lows, of those shared experiences, far outweighs the numbers on the scoreboard.

Currently: Praying that I won't be near immobilized for the next 3-4 days.

East Side Mario's < Steaming Rat Feces

Without hesitation, or lack of remorse, I would never recommend East Side Mario's to anyone wishing even an acceptable dining experience - not even my worst enemy.

Nicole and I first attempted to crash the Olive Garden but they estimated a 90 minute wait for a table. Forget that, our hungers needed satiation immediately. We kept heading south and ended up in South Edmonton Common, and to our future mutual dissatisfactions, decided to try a bit of American-Italian eating.

My God.

Though we only had to wait 10 minutes or so, we were escorted to a corner table in what I swear was the kiddy room. As we opened the menu's for the first time, Nicole casually observed how "sticky" hers was and pointed out the abundance of crusties between the laminated pages. The server came to take our orders and promptly tipped a container of whipped butter onto the table which then fell all over the floor.

When she returned with our waters and failed to clean up the mess.

After taking our orders she then swiped the menus off the table, smearing them directly over the whipped butter. I guess that solved the "sticky menu" conundrum.

She then returned with our unlimited salad and garlic bread and dropped a second container of whipped butter, this time directly in front of Nicole.

By the time our main courses arrived, we were still surrounded by gobs of whipped butter. We finally asked her to please clean up the table and she half-heartedly did so, practically pouting. By this point we felt no remorse in mentioning that she also forgot our appetizer.

This description, so far, really sounds like it was simply a bad experience with a terrible server. Sure, that was a pain to deal with, but the real reason East Side Mario's sucks ass is because the food is over-priced and terrible. The unlimited bread was dry and flavourless, and the unlimited "caesar salad" was soggy lettuce drowned in near-flavourless dressing. Not a crouton in sight. Our appetizer, calamari, not only tasted but also had the texture of something entirely artificial. I think I summed it up best when I described them as breaded condom rings.

Rubber gaskets would have also been an apt comparison.

The main courses themselves, though they were touted as the special features, were almost embarrassing to behold. Boil some pasta at home and slop on some Ragu and you've got the same thing for 1/10 the price. Nicole's shrimp, inedible. My "mini pork roast," 2/3 bone. Bah! It was absolutely awful. I feel as if words are failing me in trying to convey what a despicable restaurant the place was.

When we first got seated I made the comment that it appeared to be the "Red Robbins of Italian eateries, but now in retrospect, that comment is an unforgivable comparison to any restaurant.

Currently: Begrudgingly choking down my left-overs.

Humanmetrics

Which of the following individuals does not belong to the group?

a) Socrates
b) Rene Descartes
c) Sir Isaac Newton
d) Albert Einstein
e) Bob Newhart
f) Kristopher Skinner
g) C. G. Jung

Ha! It's a trick question! Following Nicole's lead, I filled out Jung's Typology Test and was considered to be an INTP, or an Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving.

As with most tests of this sort, regardless of medium, the validity of the results is always in question, as is just what the test might actually be measuring, but I still get a kick out of doing them. The INTP description felt like a pretty good fit, though I initially didn't agree with the "love of mathematics" part.

Then I got to thinking...

The math course I'm taking this semester is also my best, mark-wise. It frustrates me to no end, and I have little confidence that I can succeed in my assignments, yet I'm easily 25% above the curve. Perhaps ol' Jung-o ain't so far off the mark after all.

Currently listening to: The Oilers getting destroyed by the Coyotes! Bah!